Friday, July 29, 2016

Bad Ex Karma by Donna Cummings

I'd thought my five-year anniversary would include a fancy dinner, some great sex, and maybe fending off a marriage proposal. Instead, it was the worst sex ever, and at the restaurant, my boyfriend broke up with me.

It's like I've been cursed with Bad Ex Karma. Whenever I try to date a new guy, he ends up with a concussion or a trip to the ER.

My internal "disaster consultants", the What Ifs, completely missed the clues leading to the breakup, so now they're working overtime to protect me from another potential heartbreak. My two best friends set me up on dates while assuring me it won't put men on the endangered species list.

There's one man who seems completely immune to the curse: a sexy chef named Jonathan. He keeps popping up in my life, and he stirs up the most delicious feelings. Maybe Bad Ex Karma isn't such a bad thing after all. . .

When we arrived at Jonathan's place, a lovely old Victorian house just a short drive away, I expected we'd dash inside, like impatient couples in the movies, leaving a trail of clothing behind as we raced to the bedroom.

But I'd forgotten about Jonathan's penchant for taking his time. He helped me out of his car and then kept my hand in his as we walked up the steps to his house. Inside, we stopped for a moment in the living room while he turned on a couple of lamps, giving the room a romantic ambiance.

"Have a seat. Get comfy."

I looked around, enjoying the warm yet cozy surroundings, and saw a leather couch that looked extremely inviting. Still, I chuckled. Men and their leather. I guess it’s a remnant of those long-ago cavemen days. I settled in, letting my shoes drop to the floor before tucking my legs underneath me.

Jonathan loosened his tie, and then took it off entirely, tossing it onto a nearby table. He untucked his shirt and started unbuttoning it, until he saw that I was watching.

"Don't stop now," I teased. "I'm pretty sure I've got a few singles in my purse I can tuck somewhere for a tip."

He laughed and headed into the kitchen. "I'll get us some wine. Anything you prefer?"

"Surprise me."

His appreciative chuckle made me ultra-tingly everywhere again. It was possible that nerves were playing a part here, since I didn't know exactly when we'd be heading to the bedroom. But I wasn't about to get derailed now.

"What’s your favorite wine?" I asked. "And none of this ‘it changes all the time’ stuff."

"I usually go with Cabernet."

"I knew it! Men always go for the big beefy wines."

"Why do you say that?" He ambled into the living room, two goblets in one hand, and a bottle of a very expensive Cab in the other.

I grinned. "It has something to do with size, like it always does."

"That's what you think, huh?" His eyes twinkled as he poured a glass of the most beautiful red wine I'd ever seen and handed it to me. "Well, I happen to like Cabernet because of its complexity. It takes a while to uncover all the layers. It starts with one thing, but then something else comes to the surface. You can spend hours discovering all its secrets."

I gulped. He wasn't just talking about wine, was he?

"Looks like Cabernet might be my favorite now too."

"I thought it might." He leaned down and kissed me, slowly, leisurely, letting me know we had all the time in the world. It was the most hypnotic kiss, the most delicious wine I’d ever tasted. I didn't want either of them to end.

He finally stepped away, setting the bottle and his glass on the coffee table. "I'll be right back."

I heard him moving around in the kitchen, and then it sounded like he was opening and shutting cupboards. The next thing I knew—

"Are you making popcorn?"

"I am."

In a few minutes Jonathan returned with a giant bowl of salted buttery heaven and settled himself next to me.

I couldn't keep from grinning. "Looks like foreplay has changed a lot in the past five years."

"Don't worry." He picked up his wine glass and clinked it against mine. "We'll get you all caught up."